


His Two Beautiful Ukes

by Dionys



Category: Hyakujitsu no Bara | Maiden Rose, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime), 囀る鳥は羽ばたかない | Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossover Pairings, Everyone's a tiny bit OOC, For the sake of the sex, Klaus is in heaven, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, They're all cheating bastards because this is AU, Threesome - M/M/M, Two skilled ukes, Yes Victor is an uke in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8860201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dionys/pseuds/Dionys
Summary: A Russian figure skating star, a beautiful Yakuza boss and a German soldier walk into a bar. Punchline: lots of drunken, sexy, non-canon things.In other words, this is the story of what happens when Victor Nikiforov, Yashiro, and Klaus von Wolfstadt find out that all three are sexually frustrated.  [CROSSOVER SMUTFEST: For anyone looking for meaningless smut AND happens to know and love all three characters]





	

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little thing I wrote on impulse. The idea of Klaus being with two worshipping ukes grabbed hold and refused to let go. It's all in good fun, nothing serious. Just harmless, shameless smut haha! Hope you enjoy! Xx

It started off, typically enough, in a bar. Three strangers sat near one another and struck up a conversation. A conversation which, before long, meandered down a certain sexually frustrated path.

'Yuuri doesn't stop practicing. Being on the ice is all he has time for anymore,' said the silver-haired one with a huff that riffled through his fringe. He complained despite being completely aware that his own influence was to blame. 

'Doumeki's scared of hurting me after one of our... sessions... went a little awry. He's like a dead fish in the sack now.'

That one was from the golden-haired one in the impeccable suit and vest. He also felt guilty for his hand in having turned Doumeki into said dead fish.

'Taki just hates sex,' said the large blonde soldier in the tan coat. He threw back his scotch.

The other two looked at him.

'Long story,' he said.

* * *

And so by the time they were stumbling drunkenly down the hallway towards the hotel room they had just booked – Klaus sandwiched between the two shorter men, pushing Victor up against the wall in a kiss and Yashiro cleaving himself to Klaus’ back with a slender hand down Klaus’ pants – there were various things going on in each of their minds.

For Klaus, it was the thrill of having not one but two doting lovers, both stunners, and neither of whom looked anything like Taki.

For Victor, who was quickly losing his breath and his mind against the wall, it was something similar; he found a thrill in how shockingly different the tall blonde soldier was from Yuuri, who was slightly smaller than Victor and, while sometimes surprising in terms of his seme skills, never this dominating.

For Yashiro, it was almost the complete opposite. Klaus was pretty much identical to Doumeki in height and build and intensity, if the polar opposite in personality. And by the feel of things, he could give Doumeki a run for his money in other areas as well.

All three collapsed onto the bed.

* * *

Klaus knew he wasn’t caught in a dream because not even his wildest ones could have conjured something like this.

He sat on the edge of the bed completely naked and kneeling before him was a silver-haired and golden-haired beauty, both also naked, both wearing expressions that made Klaus want to come just by looking at them, and both of them slurping noisily on his leaking cock.

‘Shit,’ he hissed.

At that moment, Victor was near his tip, gathering the flowing pre-come on his tongue before covering Klaus’ head completely in the wet heat of his mouth. Yashiro was nearer to the base.

Klaus tried to decide whether he preferred it when they glanced at him, eyes somehow both beseeching and devilish, or when they focused on his cock between them like it was a work of art.

He decided, in the end, that he liked it best when they talked to one another about it.

‘So big,’ Victor murmured, his Russian accent rolling from his throat.

‘Mmm,’ Yashiro agreed, a sound Klaus felt in his cock.

Yashiro glanced up at the look on Klaus’ face, his golden eyes glinting and his wide mouth open in a slight pant, and felt his own cock stiffen until it was almost painful. He then glanced sideways at his partner-in-crime, whose look of rapt concentration was so endearing that he felt the need to pull him in suddenly for a kiss.

Klaus groaned as he watched his pre-come being shared between their lips.

Yashiro’s hands roamed over Victor’s neck and chest. Yashiro was the more built of the pair, but Victor held his own; his hands looped around to Yashiro’s ass cheeks and squeezed. But before long, they turned their attention back to Klaus, who again was torn between scenes. It was like a smorgasbord of choices.

After they resumed, though Klaus wanted them to go on with their work unimpeded, he couldn’t help reaching down and running a hand through their hair as they licked and sucked and moaned; Yashiro’s thin and silky-smooth, Victor’s thick and lush.  

Then on impulse, without really deciding, he closed one fist and tugged. Yashiro was pulled away from his cock and Klaus hauled him up by his arms until he was straddling Klaus’ hips. Klaus kissed him deeply and smelled expensive cologne and tasted himself on Yashiro’s tongue. Yashiro moaned into his mouth.

Victor grinned impishly at the sight of them, his face still flushed and his hand moving slowly over his own cock. He moved onto the bed, leaned in close and ran his tongue just a little over the side of Klaus’ jaw as he kept kissing Yashiro. Gentle ridges of stubble.

He caught a flash of golden eyes and his stomach somersaulted. Klaus pulled away from Yashiro to meet him in a kiss, tongues meshing. His grip on the back of Victor’s head felt like steel.

* * *

When Klaus turned back to Yashiro, Victor kissed Yashiro’s shoulder, admiring the Yakuza boss' body; one which reminded him of a jungle cat's. He idly wondering why Yashiro didn’t have one of those famed, intricate tattoos. He trailed kisses down Yashiro’s back, imagining him on the ice, gold hair flashing beneath the lights.

Sensing where Victor was going, Klaus leaned backwards and pulled Yashiro down with him until Klaus lay flat on the bed and Yashiro's ass hovered in the air.

Victor’s pulse quickened. He crouched behind Yashiro and pulled his firm cheeks apart. Rimming was something he had always loved doing and something that Yuuri continued to be reluctant about. So he decided he would take the opportunity now to gorge.

The first swipe of his tongue and hot breath almost made Yashiro jerk away in surprise.

‘Fuck yes,’ Klaus grunted. ‘Get him ready for me.’

Even though his mind was completely lost to the skilful flicks and jabs of Victor’s mouth, Yashiro managed a grin.

‘A vocal… top,’ he panted. ‘How refreshing.’

Victor couldn’t help but agree.

‘How’s it feel?’ Klaus asked in a low growl.

‘Ugh… amazing.’

‘Yeah? He’s doing a good job getting you all wet?’

Klaus pinched and twisted Yashiro’s nipples and watched him hang his head.

‘Mmm… yes,’ Yashiro moaned into his ear.

After almost a full minute, Victor surfaced with a loud smack of the lips. He hovered over Yashiro, pressing him against Klaus, and kissed his neck.

‘He’s all ready,’ Victor said, his voice still maintaining the playful cadence they both heard in the bar.

Klaus suddenly wanted to see what the glamorous Russian skater, whom Klaus had seen in snippets on television, would look like splayed on his back with his legs bent over his chest and gasping for breath.

So he made it happen.

* * *

He sat up slowly and Yashiro, seeing the new focus in Klaus’ gaze, slid out from between them and watched as Klaus rolled Victor onto his back and hoisted his legs in the air.

His body reminded Klaus of a lithe sprite of some kind; an unreal pale colour with defined lateral muscles running everywhere. He dove between Victor’s cheeks and lapped at the puckered, twitching hole.

Victor’s hand clamped on Klaus’ hair and he arched his back. His moan was guttural and loud.

In that moment, Yashiro realised what it might have looked like when Doumeki rimmed him for the first time in the backseat of the car. He wondered if he wore Victor’s look of total overwhelmed lust and surprise and fear and desire.

For Victor, the fear, or flickers of it, came from the fact that he was far too close to coming. The movements of Klaus’ tongue and the hand around his cock were not even in the same league as Yuuri’s. He felt completely helpless in the soldier’s huge hands.

It didn’t help that Yashiro hovered above him and kissed him even as he moaned.

But right before he was pushed to the brink, Klaus suddenly drew away and lowered Victor's legs. With a deft flip, Victor was turned onto his stomach. He tried to lift himself up onto his elbows.

‘You too,’ Klaus said to Yashiro. ‘Turn around.’

The hoarseness of his voice sent a flare through Yashiro, who threw him another wicked smile before turning. He found himself face down on the bed beside Victor.

Klaus took a moment to appreciate the scene before him, again unsure if he was dreaming. Both of them were bent over, their perfect, toned, rounded asses in the air, both begging to be filled. Again, the sight alone was enough to make Klaus want to come. In fact, if he kneeled there jerking himself off, it would probably wouldn’t take him long.

Instead he asked, his voice tight, ‘Who wants it first?’

Still panting slightly, both Victor and Yashiro exchanged a lust-filled glance. Neither could deprive the other of that privilege.

‘Whoever you want, Captain,’ Victor answered blithely, icy blue eyes twinkling.

Klaus grit his teeth and moved behind him. His right hand, however, moved to Yashiro.

His cock and fingers pushed in at the same time. And he nearly lost it when his two beautiful ukes moaned at the same time and in almost the same way.

* * *

Victor felt like his whole body had been invaded. He had seen the size and girth of Klaus’ cock up front but it still felt entirely unreal when it was inside him.

_‘Oh, God! Yes! Yes, don't stop!’_

That was what Victor thought he had said. In reality, though he had said it, it had all come out in desperate Russian that neither of the others understood. It was a babble that threw yet more fuel on the fire for Klaus.

Victor gripped the sheets beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, as Klaus began moving. He had been prepared so well beforehand that Klaus was able to plunge his full length in and out in only a matter of seconds.

‘Shit! So fucking tight,’ Klaus muttered through gritted teeth, feeling the heat and pressure envelop him immediately. Sweat gathered on his brow as he watched Victor’s pale body writhe beneath him, his ass making way sweetly for Klaus’ cock on every thrust.

He also shifted his gaze to Yashiro, whose heat was enveloping his fingers, three of them, right down to the palm. His thumb and pinky fingers pressed into the flesh of Yashiro’s ass as he dug and twisted and curled.

‘Mmmph! Ah!’ Yashiro gasped in response.

They kept it up for a full agonising minute that felt like hours.

Yashiro was also reeling in the wonderful sensation of being filled. He hadn’t turned when Klaus made his decision, and his head was still spinning from everything that had happened up until that point, so he bucked backwards onto the thing or things filling him with only a vague notion that they were Klaus’ fingers.

He turned his head to look at Victor, whose flushed and wrecked face probably reflected his own.

‘God… his hands…’ Yashiro panted with a wry smile. ‘Are so big… I can’t even tell if they’re… his fingers… or his cock.’

At that moment, Klaus withdrew from Victor, angled his hips and plunged completely into Yashiro in a single ruthless thrust.

‘ _Fuck!_ ’ Yashiro yelled, his head nearly hitting the headboard. His ass clenched and released in spasms to try to accommodate Klaus. ‘Okay… definitely fingers… the first time.’

Klaus gave a heavy, throaty laugh somewhere behind him.

* * *

Amazingly, despite their extended periods of sexual frustration before that night, despite the overstimulation of everything that led up to the main act, they managed to last in that position for some time without coming.

Klaus alternated between them when he felt like it, whenever the fancy took him. He relished the cresting moans, the pulsing around his cock, the way they jerked themselves off at the same time, the loaded, tormented glances over their shoulders. He relished all of it. Everything. Every part of both of their bodies. He was serious when the thought occurred to him that he could die like this and die happy.

And right when all three were on the brink, he pulled out. He didn’t know why. Perhaps it was the desire for it to last as long as humanly possible. He felt momentarily light-headed.

He looked down to find that they were kissing again. Sender fingers were entangled in each other’s sweat-slicked hair. As he watched, Yashiro managed to push Victor backwards onto the mattress, his legs wrapped around Yashiro’s hips. Klaus moved back slightly, tired and still slightly dazed.

Russian skater and Yakuza mob boss pulled back to stare at one another. Yashiro's hair fell forwards to brush Victor's face. He was goddamn beautiful, Victor thought.

Yashiro saw a little more clearly through the fog of lust. Despite the lull, he remembered how close they had all been to coming. So he shifted himself and Victor slightly, deviously, so his own hips stuck out and Victor’s ass beneath him would do the same.

And suddenly there they were, Victor lying on the bed, Yashiro hovering over him, legs and arms intertwined, both their asses spread open once again and Klaus’ pre-come dripping down their cheeks and thighs. They glanced between their bodies at Klaus, both panting.

‘Fuck,’ Klaus groaned.

That time, after they started again, they didn’t last long at all.

* * *

Afterwards, Klaus and Yashiro shared a cigarette and all three passed around smartphone photos of their significant others.

‘They all have dark hair,’ Klaus observed, feeling a twinge of guilt.

‘They say blondes have more fun,’ Yashiro said airily.

‘I’m not blonde,’ Victor pointed out.

‘Close enough.’

‘Anyone else feeling a bit guilty?’ Klaus asked, even as his eyelids began to droop in post-climax drowsiness.

A sated but awkward silence followed.

‘I know how we can make it up to them,’ Yashiro said.

This drew two interested gazes.

‘We just invite them to come along next time,’ Yashiro said smoothly.

Klaus snorted at the idea of Taki ever agreeing to that. Victor wasn’t so sure either. And upon closer reflection, Yashiro realised Doumeki wouldn’t be thrilled to have someone like Klaus near him, or near Yashiro, in any kind of sexual situation.

‘Right. Never mind then,’ he said drowsily.

He drifted off to sleep between the golden-haired soldier and the silver-haired skater.

**Author's Note:**

>  _"Every guy's an uke when you put Klaus in the picture."_ (Moratorium, 2016)


End file.
